he understood her hesitation, and was annoyed at the suggestion of help.
She seated herself, therefore, and tried in vain to look at ease while
he followed. For two or three steps he managed to support himself on
his crutches with marvellous agility; on the fourth they slipped, and if
he had not been seized from behind by Mr Bertrand and pulled forward by
Hilary's outstretched hand, he must have had a serious fall. Hilary
literally dare not look at his face for the first ten minutes of the
drive, for with an instinctive understanding of another person's feeling
which was a new experience to this self-engrossed little lady, she
realised that he was smarting beneath the consciousness of having made
himself an object of general commiseration. Whatever happened, he must
not think that she was pitying him. She racked her brain to think of
something to say--some amusing stories to tell. "I wish we were going
on a coach instead of a char-a-banc. I love to see the drivers in their
white hats and red coats, and to hear the horns blowing. There is
something so cheerful about a horn! We are getting to know all the
drivers quite well now. I say `getting to know,' because it takes quite
three years to know a North-countryman. They are so terribly reserved!
Last year I was on the box seat of a coach sitting next to the driver
whom we knew best of all. There were some American ladies behind who
kept worrying him with questions all the while. `Driver, will you show
us Wordsworth's house?' `Driver, you won't forget Wordsworth's house?'
`Driver, hev you passed by Wordsworth's house?' He just sat like a
statue and took no notice whatever. Poor man! I wonder how many
thousand times he has been asked those questions! One of the horses had
bandages round his front leg, and at last I said--I believe I was trying
to show off a little bit, you know, just to let them see how polite he
would be with me--I said, `Oh, Robert, why has the off leader got
gaiters on to-day?' His face was just as blank as if I had never
spoken. We drove along in silence for about ten minutes, while I got
hotter and hotter. Then he cleared his throat deliberately, and said,
`Well, in the first place--he needs 'em! and in the second place--he
likes 'em! and in the third place--he can't do without 'em!' I felt so
small!"
A forced "Humph!" being the only reception which the story received,
Hilary braced herself to fresh efforts. Two or three experiences of
North-country manners were suggested by the last; she related them in
her liveliest manner, and even forced herself to laugh merrily at the
conclusion. "So funny, wasn't it? Don't you think it was good?"
The char-a-banc had now reached Bowness, and, for the first time, she
ventured a glance into her companion's face. He met her eyes and
smiled, the slow, sweet smile that transformed his expression.
"I know someone who is good," he said meaningly. "You have talked
yourself out of breath trying to drive away the evil spirit. It's too
bad! I am ashamed of my own stupidity."
"I wish--" began Hilary eagerly, and stopped short as suddenly as she
had begun.
"You wish? Yes, what is it? Tell me, do! I want to hear--"
Hilary paused for a moment and turned her head over her shoulder. A
reassuring clatter of voices came to her ear. Rex, Norah, and Lettice
chattering away for their lives, and Edna's soft laughter greeting each
new joke. The young folks were too much taken up with their own
conversation to have any attention to spare for the occupants of the box
seat. She could speak without fear of being overheard.
"I wish you would try not to be so cross with yourself for being lame!"
Mr Rayner winced in the old, pained manner, but the next moment he
began to smile.
"`Cross'! That's a curious way of expressing it. How am I cross?"
"Oh, always--every way! Every time it is alluded to in the most distant
way, you flare up and get angry. You have snubbed me unmercifully three
or four times."
"I have snubbed you? I!" He seemed overcome with consternation. "Miss
Hilary, what an accusation. I have never felt anything but sincerest
gratitude for your sympathy--I suppose I am stupid. I ought to be
hardened to it by this time, but after being so strong, so proud of my
strength, it is a bitter pill to find myself handicapped like this--a
burden to everybody."
"You have been with us now for nearly a week, and there have only been
two occasions on which you have seemed any different from another man,
and each time," said Hilary, with unflinching candour, "it has been
entirely your own fault! You would not let yourself be helped when it
was necessary. If I were in your place, I would say to myself--`I am
lame! I hate it, but whether I hate it or not, it's the truth. I am
lame! and everybody knows it as well as I do. I won't pretend that I
can do all that other people do, and if they want to be kind and help
me, I'll let them, and if they don't offer, I'll _ask_ them! Whatever
happens, I am not going to do foolish, rash things which will deceive
nobody, and which may end in making me lamer than ever!' And then I'd
try to think as little about it as I could, and get all the happiness
that was left!"
"Oh, wise young judge!" sighed Mr Rayner sadly. "How easy it is to be
resigned for another person. But you are quite right; don't think that
I am disputing the wisdom of what you say. I should be happier if I
faced the thing once for all, and made up my mind as to what I can and
cannot do. Well--Miss Carr told me her plans last night. If you come
to London, you must keep me up to the mark. I shall hope to see a great
deal of you, and if you find me attempting ridiculous things, such as
that ladder business to-day, you must just--what is it I am supposed to
have done?--`snub' me severely as a punishment."
Hilary smiled with two-fold satisfaction. So Mr Rayner agreed with her
in believing that Miss Carr's choice was practically certain. The
prospect of living in London grew more and more attractive as the
various advantages suggested themselves, and she was roll of delicious
anticipations.
"Oh, I will," she said merrily. "I am glad that I did not know you
before you were ill, because I see no difference now, and I can do it
more easily. I think I am like the Mouse; I like you better for being
different from other people. She spent a whole morning searching for
twigs in the garden, and now all her dolls are supplied with crutches."
"Dear little mortal! I never met a sweeter child," cried Mr Rayner,
and the conversation branched off to treat of Geraldine and her pretty
ways.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
THE WISHING GATE.
Lunch was ready when the visitors reached the hotel at Grasmere, and as
they were equally ready for lunch, they lost no time in seating
themselves at the large table in the window, and making a vigorous
attack upon rolls and butter. The other tables were well filled, and
Hilary held up her head with complacent pride, while Lettice and Norah
nudged each other to call attention to the glances of curiosity and
interest which were directed towards their father.
"A party of Americans, and the waiter whispered to them as we passed.
Oh, father, you are in for it! _Now_--I told you so! The one with the
light hair is getting up. She is going upstairs to bring down the
autograph albums. Wait till you've finished lunch, then it will
be--`Oh, Mr Bertrand, such an honour to meet you; would you be kind
enough to write your name in my little book?'"
Mr Bertrand went through a pantomime of tearing his hair. "Is there no
escape?" he groaned. "It's bad enough to be a lion in town, but I
positively refuse to roar in the country. I won't do it. I have
writer's cramp--I can't use my right hand. Rayner, my boy, I'll turn
them on to you!"
"He is only pretending. He is really awfully pleased and flattered.
Wait till you see how polite he will be when they ask him," said Lettice
mischievously; and, indeed, nothing could have been more courteous than
Mr Bertrand's manner when the American party flocked round him in the
hall after luncheon.
"Your books are in every house in America, sir, and it gives us the
greatest pleasure to have an opportunity of--"
"Oh, come along!" whispered Norah, pulling impatiently at Edna's arm.
"I know it all by heart. Come into the garden, both of you; Lettice and
I have something to tell you--an exciting piece of news!"
"Kitten dead? New ribbons for your hats?" queried Rex indifferently.
He was sceptical on the point of Norah's "exciting confidences," but
this time Lettice looked at him reproachfully with her great, grey eyes.
"No, indeed--don't make fun--it's serious! Miss Carr is going to adopt
one of us to live with her in London as her own daughter, for the next
three years."
"Nonsense!" Rex sat down in a heap on the grass, in front of the bench
where the girls were seated. "Which?"
"Ah, that's the mystery! She is to have her choice, and she won't say
which it is to be until Wednesday night--two days more. So, you see,
you had better be polite, for you mayn't have me with you much longer."
"I am always polite to you," said Rex moodily: and the statement passed
unchallenged, for however much he might tease Norah, and snap at Hilary,
he was always considerate for the feelings and comfort of "Lovely
Lettice!"
"Oh, Norah, Norah! I hope it won't be you!" cried Edna, clasping her
hands round her friend's arm in warm-hearted affection. "What should I
do without you? We have been so happy, and have had such fun! Three
years! What an age of a time! We shall be quite grown-up."
"Yes; and after that, father is going to take a house in London, because
the boys will have left school, and it will be better for them. Isn't
it horrid to think that after to-day it may never be the same for one of
us again? She will only come back as a visitor, for a few weeks at a
time, and everything will be strange and different--"
"And Rex may go abroad before the end of the three years, and Hilary may
marry--and--oh, a hundred other horrible things. Perhaps we may never
meet again all together like this until we are quite old and grey-
headed. We would write to one another, of course; stiff, proper sort of
letters like grown-up people write. How funny it would be! Imagine you
writing to me, Edna--`My dear Eleanora, you must not think my long
silence has arisen from any want of affection towards you and yours. ...
And how has it been with you, my valued friend?'"
The burst of laughter which greeted this speech did something to liven
the gloom which was fast settling upon the little party, and presently
Mr Bertrand's voice was heard calling from the verandah--
"Now then, children, what are we to do until four o'clock? Do you want
to go on the lake?"
"It's no good, sir. We could row round it in ten minutes." This from
Rex, with all the scorn of a young man who owned a _Una_ of his own on
Lake Windermere.
"Do you want to scramble up to the Tarn, then? I don't. It's too hot,
and we should have no time to spend at the top when we got there."
"Let us go to the Wishing Gate, father," suggested Norah eagerly. "It's
a nice walk; and I got what I wished for last summer--I did really--the
music lessons! I'm sure there is something in it."
"Let us go then, by all means. I have a wish of my own that I should be
glad to settle. Helen, will you come?"
"No, thank you, Austin, I will not. I can wish more comfortably sitting
here in the shade of the verandah I've been once before, and I wouldn't
drag up there this afternoon for a dozen wishes."
"And Rayner--what will you--?"
Mr Rayner hesitated, then, "I--er--if it's a steep pull, I think I had
better stay where I am," he added, in cheery, decided tones, which
brought a flush of delight to Hilary's cheeks.
She turned in silence to follow her sisters, but before she had advanced
many steps, stood still hesitating and stammering--"I--I--the sun is
very hot. My head--"
"Well, don't come, dear, if you are afraid of head-ache. Stay where you
are," said her father kindly; and Miss Carr chimed in, in characteristic
fashion--
"But if you are going to chatter, be kind enough to move away to another
seat. I am not going to have my nap disturbed if I know it."
"Come along, Miss Hilary. Our pride won't allow us to stay after that!"
cried Mr Rayner, picking up his crutches and leading the way across the
lawn with suspicious alacrity; and no sooner were they seated on the
comfortable bench than he turned a smiling face upon his companion, and
wished to know if she were satisfied with the result of her lecture.
"Entirely," said Hilary. "It sounded brave and man-like, and put all at
their ease. It is always best to be honest."
"It is. I agree with you. What about the head?"
"What head?"
"Ah! and is _that_ honest? You know what I mean. Does it ache _very_
badly?"
"N-no! Not a bit! I stayed behind because I preferred to--to talk to
you," said Hilary stoutly, wishing she could prevent herself blushing in
such a ridiculous fashion, wishing Mr Rayner would not stare at her
quite so fixedly; happy, miserable, discomfited, triumphant, all at the
same moment, and in the most incomprehensible fashion.
"That's very satisfactory, because I like to talk to you also," he said
gravely; and the next two hours passed so quickly that it was quite a
shock to hear calls from the verandah, and to see the walking party
already assembled round the tea-table.
"What did you wish?" was Hilary's first question, but, with the
exception of the Mouse, everyone refused to divulge the secret.
"I wished I might have a doll's pramulator," said Geraldine gravely, and
when Miss Carr asked if the dolls were not able to take walking
exercise, she shook her head with pathetic remembrance.
"Mabel isn't, 'cause she's only one leg. She really had two, only one
day, Raymond hanged her up from the ceiling, and when I sawed her, I
cried, and pulled with my hands, and one leg earned off. So now I want
a pramulator."
"And she shall have one, bless her! and the best that can be bought,"
muttered Miss Carr beneath her breath; while Norah whispered eager
questionings into her companion's ear.
"You might tell me, Rex--you might! I won't tell a soul. What did you
wish?"
"Don't be so curious. What does it matter to you?"
"It does matter. I want to know. You might! Do-oo!"
"No-o! I won't now. There's an end of it."
"Oh, Rex, look here--I've sixpence in my pocket. I'll buy you a packet
of gingerbread if you will."
"I don't want the gingerbread. What a girl you are! You give a fellow
no peace. I didn't wish anything particular, only--"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Only that she," with a nod of the head towards where Miss Carr sat
sipping her tea--"that she might choose Hilary to live with her in
London."
"Oh-oh! You wouldn't like it if it were Lettice?"
"Of course not, neither would you."
"But--but--it might be me!"
"It might. There's no saying. I'll have another cup of tea, if you
please," said Rex coolly.
Aggravating boy! It would be just as easy to draw water from a stone,
as to persuade him to say anything nice and soothing to one's vanity!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
MISS CARR'S CHOICE.
Wednesday was a day of great, though suppressed excitement, and when
evening came, and Miss Carr summoned the girls into the drawing-room, it
would be difficult to say which of the three felt the more acute
anxiety. Mr Rayner had considerately taken himself out of the way, but
Mr Bertrand was seated in an easy chair, his arms folded, his face
grave and set. Miss Carr pointed to the sofa, and the three girls sat
down, turning inquiring eyes on her face. It was horribly formal, and
even Norah felt cowed and spiritless.
"Girls," said Miss Carr slowly, "it was my intention to say nothing
about my plans until I had made my decision, but it seems that your
father has forestalled me and told you of my wishes. ... When you were
little children I saw a great deal of you. Your father was one of my
most valued friends, your dear mother also, and you were often at my
house. When you came here I felt a great blank in my life, for I am
fond of young people, and like to have them about me. Last January,
your father visited me, and told me of a conversation which he had had
with you here. He was anxious about your future, and it occurred to me
that in some slight degree I might be able to take the responsibility
off his hands. I have felt the need of a companion, and of some fresh
interest in life, and nothing could give me more pleasure than to help
one of Austin Bertrand's daughters. Well, my dears, I spoke to your
father: he did not like the idea at first, as you will understand, but
in the end he gave way to my wishes, and it only remained to make my
choice. When I use the word `choice,' you must not imagine that I am
consulting merely my own preference. I have honestly tried to study the
question from an unselfish point of view--to think which of you would
most benefit from the change. One consideration has influenced me of
which I can only speak in private, but for the rest I have watched you
carefully, and it seemed to me that two out of the three have already a
definite interest and occupation in their lives, which is wanting in the
other case. Lettice has no special work in the house, no pet study to
pursue; therefore, my dears, I choose Lettice--"
There was a simultaneous exclamation of consternation.
"Lettice!" cried Hilary, and drew in her breath with a pang of bitterest
disappointment.
"Lettice! Oh, no, no, no!" cried Norah, throwing her arms round her
favourite sister, and trembling with agitation.
"My little Lettice!" echoed Mr Bertrand, with a groan of such genuine
dismay, that Miss Carr stared at him in discomfiture.
"My dear Austin--if it makes you so unhappy--"
"No--no. I gave you my word, and I am not going back. Besides," with a
kindly glance at the other two girls, "I should have felt the same,
whichever way you had decided. Well, that's settled! I am off now,
Helen. We can have our talk later."
He walked hastily out of the room, and Miss Carr turned back to the
girls with a troubled expression.
"My dears, I know you will both feel parting with your sister, but I
will do all I can to soften the blow. You can always look forward to
meeting at Christmas and Midsummer, and I shall ask your father to bring
you up in turns to visit us in London. Though Lettice is to be my
special charge, I take a deep interest in you both, and shall hope to
put many little pleasures in your way. And now, my dears, will you
leave us alone for a time? I want to have a quiet talk with Lettice
before we part."
The two girls filed out of the room, and stood in the hall, facing each
other in silence. Miss Briggs put her head out of the morning-room,
with an eager--"Well--_Who_!" and when Norah pointed dolefully towards
the drawing-room door, disappeared again with an exclamation of dismay.
It was the same all round, Hilary told herself. Everyone was miserable
because Lettice had been chosen. Everyone called out in sharp tones of
distress, as if disappointed not to hear another name. Mr Bertrand was
too dear and kind for it to be possible to make a charge of favouritism
against him, but Lettice's striking likeness to her mother seemed to
give her a special claim to his tenderness, while as for the rest of the
household, Miss Briggs was as wax in Lettice's hands, for the simple
reason that she was a solitary woman, and the girl showed her those
little outward signs of affection which make up the sweetness of life;
while the servants would do twice as much for her as for any other
member of the family, because, "bless her pretty face, she had such a
way with her!" Hilary felt indescribably chilled and humiliated as she
realised how little regret her own departure would have caused in
comparison, and when she spied Mr Rayner's figure crossing the lawn,
she shrank back, with uncontrollable repugnance. "You tell him, Norah!
I can't. I am going upstairs."
Meanwhile, Lettice herself had not broken down, nor shown any signs of
the emotion of a few days earlier. She was a creature of moods, but
though each mood was intense while it lasted, it lasted, as a rule, for
a remarkably short space of time. If she were in tears over a certain
subject on Monday, it was ten to one that she had forgotten all about it
before Thursday. If she were wild with excitement over a new
proposition, she would probably yawn when it was mentioned a second
time, and find it difficult to maintain a show of interest. So, in the
present case, she had exhausted her distress at the idea of leaving home
while weeping upon her father's shoulders, and ever since then the idea
of the life in London, in Miss Carr's beautiful house, had been growing
more and more attractive. And to be chosen first--before all the
others! It was a position which was full of charm to a girl's love of
appreciation.
"Come here, dear," said Miss Carr tenderly, when the door had shut
behind the other two girls; and when Lettice seated herself on the sofa,
she took her hands in hers and gazed fixedly into her face. In truth,
it would have been difficult to find an object better worth looking at
than "lovely Lettice" at that moment. The hair which rippled over her
head was of no pale, colourless flaxen, but of a rich coppery bronze,
with half-a-dozen shades of gold in its luxuriant waves; the grey eyes
had delicately marked brows and generous lashes, and the red lips
drooped in sweetest curves. The old lady's face softened as she gazed,
until it looked very sweet and motherly.
"Lettice," she said softly, "my dear little girl, I hope we shall be
happy together! I will do all I can for you. Do you think you can be
content--that you can care for me a little bit in return?"
"Yes, oh yes--a great deal!" Lettice's heart was beating so quickly
that she hardly knew what she was saying, but it came naturally to her
to form pretty speeches, and the glance of the lovely eyes added charm
to her words.
"I hope so--I hope so! And now I want to tell you the reason why I
choose you before either of your sisters. I alluded just now to
something which had influenced me, but which I could not mention in
public. It is about this that I want to speak." Miss Carr paused for a
few minutes, stroking the girl's soft, flexible hands.
"Do you know what is meant by an `Open Sesame,' my dear?"
"Oh, yes. It is the word which Ali Baba used in the `Arabian Nights,'
and that made the doors in the rocks fly open before him."
"Yes, that is right. I see you know all about it; but would you
understand what I meant, dear, if I said that God had given _you_ an
`Open Sesame' into other people's hearts and lives?"
Lettice looked up quickly, surprised and awed. "I? No! How have I--?"
"Look in the mirror opposite!" said the old lady gravely, and the girl
hung her head in embarrassment.
"No, my dear, there is no need to blush. If you had a talent for music,
like Norah, you would not think it necessary to be embarrassed every
time it was mentioned, and beauty is a gift from God, just as much as
anything else, and ought to be valued accordingly. It is a great power
in the world--perhaps a greater power than anything else, and the people
who possess it have much responsibility. You are a beautiful girl,
Lettice; you will be a beautiful woman; everyone you meet will be
attracted to you, and you will have an `Open Sesame' into their hearts.
Do you realise what that means? It means that you will have power over
other people's lives; that you will be able to influence them for good
or evil; that you can succeed where others fail, and carry sunshine
wherever you go. But it will also be in your power to cause a great
deal of misery. There have been women in the world whose beauty has
brought war and suffering upon whole nations, because they loved
themselves most, and sacrificed everything for the gratification of
vanity. You are young, Lettice, and have no mother to guide you, so
perhaps you have never thought of things in this way before. But when I
saw you first, I looked in your face and thought, `I should like to help
this girl; to help her to forget herself, and think of others, so that
she may do good and not evil, all the days of her life.'"
The ready tears rose to Lettice's eyes and flowed down her cheeks. She
was awed and sobered, but the impression was rather pleasurable than
otherwise. "A beautiful woman"--"a power over
others"--"sunshine"--"success"--the phrases rang in her ear, and the
sound was musical. "Of course I'll be good. I want to be good--then
everyone will like me," she said to herself, while she kissed and clung
to Miss Carr, and whispered loving little words of thanks, which charmed
the good lady's heart.
For the next three days all was excitement and bustle. Lettice's
belongings had to be gathered together and packed, and though Miss Carr
would hear of no new purchases, there were a dozen repairs and
alterations which seemed absolutely necessary. Mr Bertrand took his
two guests about every morning, so as to leave the girls at liberty, but
when afternoon came he drove them out willy-nilly, and organised one
excursion after another with the double intention of amusing his
visitors and preventing melancholy regrets. Norah was in the depths of
despondency; but her repinings were all for her beloved companion, and
not for any disappointment of her own. Now that she had the interest of
her music lessons, and the friendship of Rex and Edna, she was unwilling
to leave home even for the delights of London and the College of Music.
Poor Hilary, however, was in a far worse case. She had made so sure of
being chosen by Miss Carr, had dreamed so many rosy dreams about the
life before her, that the disappointment was very bitter. The thought
of seeing Lettice driving away in the carriage with Miss Carr and Mr
Rayner brought with it a keen stab of pain, and the life at home seemed
to stretch before her, still and uneventful, like a stretch of dreary
moorland. Her pride forbade her showing her disappointment, since no
one had expressed any satisfaction in retaining her company. Stay!
there was one exception. Mr Rayner had said a few simple words of
regret which had been as balm to the girl's sore heart. He, at least,
was sorry that she was not to be in London, and would have preferred her
company even to that of "lovely Lettice" herself.